A touch of destiny
by Thaye
Summary: How does one react when his whole life shatters like a glass sculpture? If the person he needs the most at this moment doesn't even notice his distress? What happens if one gets from bad to worse?
1. Chapter 1

- Chapter 1 –

„Fuck that damn crap!" were one of the politest words, escaping the shower and filling the locker room, followed by wild curses and verbal abuses.

The attendees gazes immediatly darted questioning to Shawn Micheals who, of all of them was the one, most confirmed with The Game's strange behaviour.

"What is it this time?" Cm Punk asked annoyed while being occupied with stuffing his wet towel into his bag, which suddenly seened to be a whole lot smaller than before the show.

"What the hell do I know? Maybe he is running out of shampoo?"

Matt Hardy, whose head just then appeared behind the locker rooms door to look for his younger brother stopped in his tracks, his features fake-horrified.

"The guy uses shampoo?"

"Well, most time not. I lend him mine", Edge tossed in. He was standing in front of the sink, trying to tame his wild blonde locks with more or less convincing success.

"You did... what?" Jeff was just about to follow his brother out of the room but stopped halfway to throw an aghast glance at Edge.

"Just.. lend him my shampoo, why? Why are you giving me that look as if there is something in my face?" He tilted his head questioning.

"Don't you use that Volume- shampoo?"

HBK shook his head. Push up in that young age. With that mat. He was just staring jealously at Edge's hair for some seconds, when he realized, why Jeff was so schocked.

"How the hell should that be compatible with Hunter?" he asked upset. It was just then, when Punk recovered his interest for the conversation.

"Well, he doesn't have the prettiest hair either way", the Staright Edge superstar was about to say, when HBK suddenly interrupted him.

"What does that mean? His hair are beautiful!" An angry blush arose on his cheeks. By the time he realized everyone in the room was staring at him in shock, he bit his lips, grabbed his bag and wanted rushed out of the room past Matt who wasn't less confused than the others.

"What the hell?" Randy Orton who had origionally planned to stay away from the other wrestlers' silliness was just about to protest and to tell them once more how stupid all of them were, when Triple H, who had stepped out of shower that second, pushed him aside from behind as if he were an annoying little kitten.

"Out of the way, kid. I can't reach my locker."

With the water still dripping from his hair and a towel wrapped around his hip, he made himself busy about his locker. Punk raised a brow. Yet, Triple H's hair looked normal just as usual. Even the Hardy brothers, who had actually planned to be long gone by that time, stopped and stared at Triple H. The attendees in the locker room would have given anything for a hairdryer and a camera. Maybe someone should go and ask the Divas.

"Damnit, go out of my fucking way", HBK protested, when Matt Hardy just refused to stepp aside, breaking the awkward silence. He finally managed to push past Matt who was still standing in the middle of the entrance. Behind him, everyone just suddenly started to talk and all at once, trying to find something else to chat about than the structure of Triple H's hair.

Shawn stumbled out into the hallway. It was oddly quiet this evening. The Divas must have been long gone, otherwise it would surely not be that peaceful. For a tiny moment, he just stood there, enjoiying the silence which was, compared to the other's endless riots truly a relief.

With a deep sigh he leaned against the chilly wall. Today's show took much more out of him than usual. He was definetly getting too old for this stuff. Fortunately he would now drive back to the hotel and take a day off to redover himself. The next show would be in three days. Enough time, he hoped.

It was just when he decided to turn his back to the shouts, coming out of the locker room, for this evening when he noticed steps, approaching him frome the sickroom. They were heavy, dull paces and most of all fast paces.

"Dave!" a bright voice echoed through the hallway which, to that time of day, looked as it had been picked out of a horror movie's hospital. Now, more light and quicker steps were approaching as well.

"Man, couls you just slow down a bit? I'm talking to you!"

Before HBK couls take cover, Dave Batista came around the corner. A bandage covered his right shoulder and a nasty gash decorated his forehead. The bandage had been already there a week ago, as long as HBK could remember. But the sore was new. Six feet behind Rey turned up as well. The two of them have had a match together this evening and the outcome hadn't been that delightful. Especially because Rey had been a little bit distracted during the match. Batista seemed to take it for bad. His features spoke volumes.

Rey himself looked quiet battered too. He limped while reaching for his knee once in a while and because of that wasn't able to keep up with Batista, even if he normally was the faster guy of the pair.

"Hey, don't you listen?" Rey's voice was shaking slightly. He was in a worse state than he would admit. Not only his knee was hurting as if it qould breake in two at any second. Every breath he took sent shocks of pain through his torso, nevertheless he again and again raised his voice to call for his best friend. They had almost reached the locker room and Rey spotted Shawn leaning against the wall close to the door facing their approach with an uncomprehending glance.

All of a sudden, Batista turned on his heels. Rey who was a little distracted by Shawns appereance did not expect that and bumped straight into the wall of muscles in front of him. Blinking a couple of times, he stumbled backwards, a hand pressed to his even worse aching chest.

"Dios mio..."

"What's your problem? Why are you running after me like a little child?" Batista snapped at him angrily.

"I don't have the fucking time for your absurdities!" With a harsh gesture he signalized Rey, to leave him alone. When Rey didn't move but stared at him desperately, he just turned around and rushed into the locker room, swearing under his breath.

The noise, coming from inside, suddenly stopped. Rey, still wearing his wrestling gear, shook his head and burried it in his palmd. Some mumbled spanish words escaped his gloved hands. Some time had passed until he noticed that there was still a rather cofused Shawn Michaels leaning against the wall next to him. He quickly lowered his arms and forced a smile on his lips. But to everyone who really knes Rey it didn't seemed as anything but an empty deception. Rey really did not feel like smiling.

"Hey Shawn", he tried to loosen the situation a bit.

"Hey" came the uncertain response. Rey stepped closer to him. Although HBK was one of the smaller wrestlers, he still towered Rey a lot.

"Er... that. I was just... I'm sorry that you had to hear that. You know it's just..." Rey bit his lower lip thoughtfully. There had to be a way to talk him out of this. But Shawn was just gently shaking his head.

"No, you don't have to excuse yourself Rey, it's okay."

A sigh escaped Reys lips. HBK just wanted to help him, but all this pity, no matter where he went, pained him a lot more. He gave Shawn a sad smile.

"The match simply didn't go that well and it's my fault. I deserve to be yelled at."

Shawn nodded. It made him sad, seeing Rey in such a state. Since the accident hardly a month had passed, nevertheless the latino forced himself back into the ring. Absolutely nobody could blame him for being a litte off the track. HBK wasn't quiet sure if anyone else couls have dealt with something that striking so easily.

"Don't worry about it" he replied, gently putting a hand on Reys shoulder. Shawn new exactly that Rey couldn't stand sympathy. But yet he wanted to support him at least a little bit. That task, Batista had failed. And that while calling himself Rey's best friend.

A thankful smile showed up on the masked one's lips. He patted Shawn's shoulder and went to the locker room. HBK could see Reys brief hesitation to enter. He took a deep breath as if trying to shake away every hint of sorrow from his appereance. It had to be horrible to internally disintegrate in pain while not being allowed to show any weakness externally. He was just about to say something encouraging, but Rey had disappeared through the locker room door.

Inside there was an unholy mess. Everybody seemes to argue with anyone in the room. Rey just wanted to head for hir locker, pick up his things and then leave for the hotel. He would take a shower there. He nearly accomplished his plan when he realized Edge approaching him with hopping steps, a big smile on his face.

"Speaking of the devil"


	2. The Conspiracy

**So, this is the second chapter. As you might have already noticed, I'm not a native speaker and this is a fanfiction that already has about 10 chapters in my language. I decided to translate it so that more people can read it. I hope you like the story, leave a review if you do :)**

**Special thanks go to JJbad who volunteered to give this chapter a once over**

* * *

- Chapter 2 –

In the general excitement prevailing the locker room only Matt noticed Shawn disappearing through the door. The attendees were too busy finding a topic of conversation. Triple H didn't seem to notice the other's nervousness. Calmly he took another towel out of his bag and started to dry his hair.

Jeff watched as Triple H towelled his hair dry wondering what the man would think. He glanced over at Edge curiously and saw the Rated R Superstar looking away from everybody fumbling with his curls.

Randy, however didn't want to be ignored by the others. He tried several times to talk to someone, but no one responded. Feeling his anger get the better of him, he had enough. He popped his thumb and index finger in his mouth and let out a short, shrill whistle, which made everyone in the room wince.

"Are you fucking insane?" grumbled Punk, rubbing his aching ears. He hated when Randy did that, everyone did, but the young wrestler just shrugged his shoulders.

"I just asked what you're up to this evening", he continued undisturbed, while the others remembered Randy mentioning something like that earlier. Matt was the only one not to have noticed it because he was just here to pick up his brother. For a few days now, Jeff had been unable to find the keys to his rented car.

"What should it be?" Matt frowned. Randy snorted, annoyed and was about to launch into an explanation as Punk per usual interrupted him.

"I think he's referring to his suggestion of getting drunk with the rest of his idiotic peers" A sigh went through the row. It was okay and really remarkable that Punk stuck to the straight-edge lifestyle. The annoying thing was that he reproached them again and again at any imaginable time, even if they did not want to hear it

"Oh come on Punk," retorted Triple H with a mocking tone. His hair was still damp, but already seemed a lot bulkier, which just did not seem to fit the striking face.

"I bet you're acting this way because you're a lightweight." He folded his arms across his chest, standing to his full height. He towered over the smaller wrestler, looking him in the eyes and challenging him to deny it.

Punk crossed his arms over his chest mimicking the stance of the elder wrestler. Arching an eyebrow Punk looked disinterested in the conversation, but he refused to back down.

"Do you have any decent arguments or are you just throwing around blind accusations?" Punk's eyes shone with belligerence. If Triple H wanted a brawl, he would sure as hell get one.

Fortunately Jeff had enough common sense to try and diffuse the situation. He raised his hands soothingly and walked over to the two men

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, come on, calm down." He tried to position himself between Punk and Triple H but the two were already so close together that it was almost impossible.

"No insulting anybody here, got that?" Jeff sighed, usually it was Rey who played the mediator, but since he didn't show up yet Jeff had to take over.

Meanwhile Edge had given up on his hair and put it into a sloppy ponytail. He positioned himself next to Jeff to assist him if needed.

Randy had other plans, since he saw an opportunity for him to have his way. Casually he walked to Triple H's side.

"What's all that excitement about Jeff?" Randy threw Jeff and Punk a derogatory glance.

"Triple H was stating that Punk couldn't hold his liquor. That's not an accusation isn't it?".

Punk's right eye began twitching. He was obviously fighting his anger against that kid. His hands clenched into fists as he gazed at Randy, but Jeff quickly put a hand on Punk's shoulder and pushed him aside.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jeff, who was slightly larger than Punk didn't intend on taking sides. But now, it seemed like the bigger wrestlers had targeted them both he had no other choice.

Edge awkwardly shifted from one foot to the other. The mediator's title seemed to have now fallen into his hands. Matt once again only had eyes for his cell phone didn't seemed to care at all. He just hoped Jeff wouldn't get all worked up, but it was already too late.

"So the two of you are claiming that only because you are larger and heavier than us you are able to drink more?" A diabolic grin appeared on his lips."Then please explain to me why the hell I was able to outdrink Edge just last week?"

Edge hung his head. Now he was getting pulled into all that shit too.

"Listen Jeff, that has nothing to do with it. I just had a bad day, ya know?" he tried do defend himself but his words were lost in Triple H and Randy's laughter.

"Did you really just compare me with Edge?" Triple H's laughter was filling the room.

"He's a pussy when it comes to drinking. That doesn't proof anything."

Jeff smiled, rubbing his hands together. He was beginning to enjoy this whole thing.

"Well then, big man," he began in a taunting voice as he patted Edge's should consolingly.

"How about we clear all of that up tonight?" His gaze was roaming from Triple H to Randy.

"I'll show you that size doesn't matter.

Matt looked up from his cellphone at that moment burst into laughter. Although he was the older one of the two brothers, he sometimes was way more childish.

"Agreed!" Randy stated.

The commotion was clearing up when the locker room slammed open. Batista stormed in with a sinister look on his face. With a quick glance he took in the situation, shook his head in annoyance and headed for his locker. Nobody dared raise their voice. They all knew that Rey and Batista's match didn't go so well. They also know that Batista could get pretty aggressive when he lost a match.

So they tried not to cross The Animal's path. Some of them wondered why Batista couldn't be a little bit more thoughtful considering Rey's current situation, but they gave up thinking about it and blamed it to the heavyweight's temper.

Triple H was standing in front of the mirror inspecting his hair. It seemed to be laying in a different way than usual. It didn't look too weird but if it got any fluffier they would think that he had escaped from the 80's.

Randy was about to put his things into the small bag he always had with him. All of them had wondered how the hell he managed to get all his stuff in there but no one had asked Randy so far, the topic not being interesting enough to care about.

Suddenly an idea came to Randy If their theory was correct and smaller men could really drink less alcohol than larger ones, what would happen if they tried to get Rey drunk? The young wrestler rushed over to Triple H who was stuffing his fluffy hair into a ponytail. He whispered his plan into The Game's ear who who nodded at Randy's idea.

"Not a bad idea, kid. It's worth a try." Triple H said.

Jeff's head shot up from his bag as he expected new conflicts to arise.

"What are you dickheads talking about now?" he asked curiously. Edge who happened to have heard the conversation between Randy and Triple H turned to face Jeff.

"They want to try out their 'theory' on Rey." he gestured with his hands as if he was drinking out of an imaginary bottle. Jeff grinned.

"Come on guys, that wouldn't be fair," he said with faked outrage. Even he wasn't against seeing the Luchador drunk.

"Wouldn't that be a little insensitive with the accident happening so recently?" Matt asked.

He was still leaning at the wall next to the door waiting for Jeff to grab his stuff. Randy shrugged.

"Nah, we're just trying to make him feel better, right?" Randy glanced at the other wrestlers questioningly and they all nodded in response.

Batista, still busy about his locker cocked his head at the sound of Rey's name. Hearing of their 'plan' he could simply shook his head. That jerks had no clue what Rey really needed. No pity, no cheering up. Just treating him the way they always did, that would bet he best for him, because it wouldn't feel different or special. Rey should know that the world around him was still intact. That'll be best to help him.

"Okay, so we all agree?" Edge asked hesitantly. He didn't want to miss it either.

"Gosh, do whatever you want"Punk sighed, he would probably join them without drinking himself.

They all nodded.

"Okay and who's the decoy?" Edge asked.

Triple H and Randy glanced at each other conspiring before both lifted their index finger in Edge's direction.

"You," they said in unison.

Seconds after that, the door opened and Rey trotted into the locker room. He was still in full wrestling gear and was hobbling a bit. Apart from that he looked as usual. Nobody could see how miserably he felt at this very moment.

Edge decided to get through with it as fast as possible so he hopped up to the smaller wrestler before Rey even had the time to reach his locker.

"Speak of the devil!"


End file.
